


Sailing Woes

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: The Woes Series [11]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. When the ship he had embarked on as a cabin boy was attacked by a privateer and its crew dead or captured, Sentinel had fully expected to get ransomed -- after all, that’s what happens in those cases, isn’t it? Sadly, he had not counted on two things. First, that among sea laws and customs, cabin boy on captured vessels are considered part of the loot and, second, that Captain Lockdown like to make full ‘use’ of his cabin boys…</p>
<p> <br/><i>Now with BONUS chapters!</i><br/>1. Lockdown/Sentinel/Blackarachnia- training the cabin boy<br/>2. Lockdown/Sentinel/?- Serving guest<br/>3. Ultra Magnus/Rodimus + Lockdown/Sentinel - “Your cabin boy is well trained, Lockdown. I hope mine is pleasing you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sailing Woes

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. You're not hallucinating. I did write or rather, I did post another Sentinel's Woes fic. And it also marks the return of my first Woes pairing, Lockdown/Sentinel! =3  
> Originally, it was supposed to be longer and involve more characters and pairings (such as Megatron/Optimus and Ultra Magnus/Rodimus), but I thought that what I wrote so far could easily stand alone as its own story. I eventually write more, at least I hope so; given how many Sentinel related bunnies I have and how quickly I tend to drop them, you can never really know with me.
> 
> Today, we're breaching into the full AU-historical fic, which is different from most other Woes, who still have a modern setting as background. I hope it'll be alright with you readers. And to say it all started because I discovered that the english equivalent for a 'mousse' was 'cabin boy' and that, at the word 'cabin', my mind went to strange places...
> 
> Anyway, good reading, my fellow TF -- as well as Sentinel and/or Lockdown -- fans. :)
> 
> **Note:** Despite being a cabin boy, Sentinel is fully of age. He's just not that old, especially next to Lockdown.

**Log from Captain Lockdown’s Journal -- Inrituneon 4th**

_Today was a very good day for piracy._

_Not that I’m ‘officially’ doing any piracy, of course, since I’m after a privateer for His Glorious Majesty King Nova. If I happen to attack ships, seize their cargo and sink them, it’s all in a perfectly legal way, as you must well know. Meh. Old King Nova knows where the winds blow. He’s a sly one, this one. And damn greedy too, though I can’t blame him; I’d do the same thing if I was in his place. Having privateers pays him with a good 70% of the loot they seize in exchange for the right to be called ‘privateers’ and be safe from His marine instead of just being considered ordinary pirates, with all the possible judgement and bad fortune it brings? Genius._

_Of course any smart pirate worth its salt will try and scramble to become a privateer. Think about it a moment: you get protection from the Royal Navy, you can easily enter any Royal Ports from this shore of the Cobalt Sea to the colonies near the Rust Sea, you can resupply with the Royal Arsenals, and best of all? You can still loot and kill so long your targets are ships not wearing the Royal Flag!_

_‘Scuse me if I chuckle thinking about it._

_Of course, it’s not all sunshine, I admit. 70% of your loot each time you go to shore is a lot, especially when you have a ship to maintain and a crew to feed and entertain. I’m almost angry at how ‘meager’ my portion of looted goods is once I’ve paid my due to the Crown. Almost. After all, it’s not like there aren’t… ways to earn extra wealth._

_Anyway, it was a good day today -- I’d even say it was a damn fine decacycle, period._

_After the Oppulus merchant ship nine cycles ago, and the Antillan ship from five cycles ago, luck, Primus or Unicron, take your pick, was once again on our side. Around noon, we came across a Salvvatan galleon, which had obviously taken damage from the storm from last night. Given how rich the Salvvatan are on a general basis, and upon seeing a secondary flag indicating it belonged to a private merchant company, it would have been stupid to waste such a good opportunity to enrich ourselves, wouldn’t it?_

_My crew was all for the fight, let me tell you, and that Salvvateans were made short work of. We were masters of the ship before a megacycle had passed, and appraising our new butin as well as our captives._

_Ship was called the ‘Sapphire Mermaid’; we sunk it with a few cannons blast. Captain died in the fight. Too bad; apparently, he was some sort of noble. I could have ransomed him for a nice fee. Oh, well, these things happens, and it’s not like I can’t make a profit without him. Ship cargo was composed of several chests of gemstones, all duly inventoried by myself and the second -- see the the general logbook for a precise list. Also, a few chests of gold coins, and various costly items such as statues and paintings._

_We captured twenty members of the enemy crew -- though the general logbook will only show sixteen. The other four will be debarked upon on arrival at Barbarossa; I know Swindle will find their looks very interesting indeed, and his tentacled clients more interesting still. The rest has already started to write ransom letters to their families. They’ll be posted as soon as we reach the nearest port -- well, they’ll be handed to the local Guard as they come to seize the ‘King’s part’ of the loot. Depending on if they’ve place in the local prison, we might as well give them our prisoners to watch._

_Tss. To once more lose 70% of all the splendors we have taken is almost making me sick. Almost. ‘Cause, you see, today’s seizing brought me a most interesting loot, and one the Guard, the King or the Navy will not be contesting me._

_Turns out that, among our captives, there was the ‘Sapphire Mermaid’s cabin boy._

_He’s a pretty thing, let me tell you; long legs, tiny waist, cute aft, broad shoulders, and rather handsome to look at. Bit of a big chin, but it fits him. He’s also a very loud thing; my men had to gag him in order to quiet him down when we brought him onboard. It was a very funny spectacle to watch, let me tell you._

_I usually don’t take much notice in cabin boys -- I certainly didn’t take notice of the last one we had, and the Death’s Head currently employ none -- but this one… hmm, this one, he’s making my spike pressurize just looking at him._

_Mind you, my spike is pressurizing a lot over nothing those days. I guess it’s a sign a long shore leave might be in order, but that’d be a pity, as privateers’ full ‘hunting season’ is about to start. Given how much competition the Death’s Hand will be having, I can’t allow myself to be immobilized on land for any length of time -- I won’t be able to turn in a profit if I do, and I’ll be damned if I let the like of Megatron, Devcon or Galvatron get all the good stuff. However, if I’m continually distracted, I won’t be good for much but yanking my stiff spike until the urge pass._

_Hmm._

_I have a good looking cabin boy on board. He already wrote a ransom letter, but what do you know? Letters can be lost. And besides, based on maritime laws, the cabin boys are considered a special case. In case of looting, they’re not considered part of the crew, no. They’re part of the loot themselves. Which means that I’ve technically, legally, a new cabin boy to ‘serve’ me. A cabin boy whose services would be greatly appreciated at the moment._

_Eh._

_Gentlemechs, I think it’s high time I teach that fine piece of aft the true duties of a good ‘cabin’ boy…_

*-*-*-*-*

Slag, slag, slag! That wasn’t good at all! Not good, not good, not good, Sentinel thought frantically as he was lead out of the hold of the ship that had sunk the Sapphire Mermaid and taken him prisoner, along with a part of the crew. How could things had gotten so wrong in such a short time? First the storm, and then the privateer bearing the red-faced flag of the Autobot Kingdom! Couldn’t Primus give them a break?

Hands bound behind his back, he followed the lead of one surly looking mech that towered over him as he was guided toward the stairs and ladders leading to the deck. At one point, he tripped over a bundle of rope and almost fell face down on the ground, barely caught in time by the mech that was following him. Behind his gag, he yelped when the mech’s hand squeezed his aft through his pants, and he kicked behind him by reflex, earning himself an amused chuckle.

“Aww, don’t be like that, kiddo. I’m just showing of appreciative I am of your good looks.”

Sentinel turned his head and glared at the openly lecherous mech. How dare he! And who was he calling a kiddo?! Sentinel wasn’t some sort of Youngling, thank you very much. Granted, he wasn’t that grown up either… Okay, perhaps he was a tad young… But not to the point he should familiarly be called ‘kiddo’, especially not by one of his captors! From his superiors and fellow mates, he could take it, but not from… from… this mech!

The surly mech who was leading the way grunted. “Try not to do it too much. I don’t the Captain’d like that,” he warned before yanking on Sentinel’s bonds to make him turn and walk again.

Sentinel grudgingly obeyed. He wondered what these guys wanted him for anyway. It wasn’t like he was a high ranking officer or anything.

How he wished he was, though! However, it was barely his second orbital cycle at sea. After reaching the right age to enlist, he had joined up the Sapphire Mermaid’s crew in order to become a sailor and, someday, an admiral! With projects such as his, it was rather humiliating to be cleaning the decks and helping the cook like he had so far. But such, as the Captain of the Mermaid had said, were the duties of a cabin boy. Sentinel wished he had been able to enlist on a higher position, but given his age and lack of experience, cabin boy was all he could pretend do. He had consoled himself by thinking that some of the Navy’s greatest sailors had started as such, and surely someone as brilliant as Sentinel would soon reach a higher position on board.

Well, so much for that plan.

However, all wasn’t lost, he decided as he managed to climb the ladder with some difficulties, helped by the two enemy sailors. His family could easily pay a ransom if it came to that. And perhaps, if he let slide he had some Autobot ancestry -- like, his Carrier was an Autobot -- then perhaps he could look forward to a better treatment.

On deck, he bristled and stiffened as catcalls and whistles were threw in his direction. Those mechs were just… leering at him in a most shameful way! Who did they think they were?! Nobody on the Mermaid had done that!

Well, not after the first decacycles, when the Captain had said aloud that he would not tolerate such comportement on his ship. After that, things had slowly died down, especially after the crew noticed Sentinel didn’t spent that much time with the officers or the Captain himself. Oh, he wasn’t entirely naive; he had heard rumors that, on some ships, the cabin boys were… fulfilling more tasks than he had, but the subject had never come up on the Mermaid, so Sentinel gave it little credence. And still, from the catcalls, he could gather there was some substance to those rumors.

Tss. He wasn’t going to sleep his way to the top. He had decided that very early on. Granted, it’d probably make things easier for him, but if he did, he risked to be blackmailed once he had become famous and powerful, and that wouldn’t do at all. No. Hard work and clear adhesion to the rules, that was all he needed in order to one day become an admiral.

Assuming, of course, that this bunch of pirates didn’t end up killing him, he groused silently as they reached the back of the ship and the surly sailor knocked to a massive wooden door. As it swung open, Sentinel was pushed inside the room without much care, actually sprawling over the floor in an undignified heap with a muffled, startled cry.

“The cabin boy, Captain,” one of the sailors grunted. “All yours and in one piece, as you wished.”

“So I see,” a voice drawled, and Sentinel looked up from the floor to see who had spoken. His optics darted right and left quickly, settling finally on the only occupant of the cabin, it seemed. The mech was sitting behind a large desk, a pen still in hand as he finished scribbling something down on a logbook. So that was the Captain of that bunch of pirates?

…

He was hardly impressioning, Sentinel tried to reassure himself. The mech was about his size, perhaps a bit taller, with red optics and a dark green and black plating -- at least, those were the colors that could be seen where his clothes didn’t cover his body. He had deep red optics, a tattooed face, spines on his neck and shoulders and a hook instead of a standard right hand. That was… terribly cliché, a part of him decided. The other tensed up, though, because cliché or not, it was the ship’s Captain, the one who would decide his ultimate fate. Something didn’t feel right already. With all the captured crew on board, why had he had Sentinel, a mere cabin boy, brought to him?

“I think, mates, that you could have used some care. After all, he’s our newest crew member, isn’t he?” the mech said lightly.

Sentinel’s optics almost bulged out of his head. The frag? He certainly was no member of that bunch of miscreants! Well… he knew that sometimes, cabin boys who were taken as captives, and forced to perform their duties on their captors’ ships, of course, but he certainly wasn’t joining those ruffians any time soon!

“Now help him get up before leaving -- oh, and remove that gag. We have some speaking to do together, and I doubt he’d be much of a conversationalist with it stuffed in his mouth. Once it’s done, you’re dismissed,” he added as an afterthought before going back to scribble on his logbook.

Sentinel grunted as he was roughly caught by his bound wrists and put back into a standing position, and he grunted even louder when the gag was finally removed. He opened and closed his mouth several times, working his lips and feeling relieved as he realized they weren’t injured, as he had first feared when that damn thing had been stuffed into his mouth to keep him quiet as he was forcefully brought onboard. So caught up in his relief, he didn’t notice the two sailors exiting, and only realized they were gone as he heard the door close loudly behind him.

He was now alone with the privateer ship’s Captain… and he had a bad feeling about it, somehow. Deciding to be prudent -- he was not cowardly, he was just… being careful -- he decided to keep silent. Let’s that mech speak first and see what he wanted him.

Except… the Captain didn’t seem to be in a hurry to say anything, calmly and silently continuing to write, paying little attention to Sentinel asides of some quick, almost uninterested glances from time to time. Sentinel shuffled nervously and clenched his dental plates, unwilling to yet break his resolve. Instead, he looked around the room, trying to busy his mind.

It wasn’t a bad, as far as cabin went. The Mermaid’s Captain quarters had been smaller and less… lavishly decorated. There were curtains hanging heavily to the portholes and to the big window taking a major portion of the back wall. The desk of the Captain in a corner, a table with a few chairs covered in red velvety fabric in the middle, some furniture such as a wardrobe arranged around as to occupy the less space possible, and an actual harpsichord propped up against a wall, opposing a large berth that seemed big enough to let three mechs Sentinel’s size to recharge in. It certainly looked far more comfortable than the hammocks the regular crew slept in, Sentinel mused.

“Does my berth interest you, kiddo?”

The blue mech startled and almost jumped back as the sly words were spoken aloud. Sputtering, he turned to look at the privateer Captain. The other mech had stopped scribbling and, leaning back in his chair in an almost regal way, he was now looking at the captured cabin boy with an attention that made Sentinel feel very self-conscious. Slag, how long had he been watching him?

“It does not!” Sentinel stammered loudly.

The tattooed mech just chuckled, obviously amused by the outburst. “Aww, don’t be so shy, kiddo. Pretty comfy looking, isn’t it? Silk sheets are a luxury I quite enjoy,” he mentioned offhandedly, looking at Sentinel as if he was expecting him to pick up the conversation. 

Ugh. What could he say to that? “I’m sure it’s… very soft,” he said lamely. “And don’t call me kiddo,” he added as an afterthought, trying to sound as confident and strong as he could. Just because he was a prisoner and a low cabin boy didn’t meant he had to let the other mech walk all over him. Though he ought to be careful where he treaded and not sound too insolent, less he’d get in trouble.

“Would you hear that?” the other mech commented airily. “And what should I call a pretty youthful, insolent thing like you, then?” There was a brief flash in his optics as he said ‘insolent’, and Sentinel almost gulped. Enemy Captain or not, it was still a Captain, and mechs like that were all about proper respect.

“My name is Sentinel… Sir,” he added reluctantly.

“Sentinel,” the other repeated several times, as if tasting the name. “A fine name for a fine looking mech. Though I still think ‘kiddo’ or even better, ‘cutie’, suit you better,” he said as he rose from his seat, looking at Sentinel with a leer.

Sentinel’s cheeks reddened, both in shame and in rage, but he only let out a “Sir!” to convey his indignation. His Spark beat like crazy in its chamber, his processor spinning as he tried to make sense of what the other mech wanted. The leer was pretty obvious, but his CPU refused to compute what it implied.

“I’m Captain Lockdown,” the privateer finally said as he walked with casual strides to the bound cabin boy. “You will refer to me as such, or as ‘Sir’, unless I give you permission to call me otherwise. Is it clear?”

“Perfectly clear… Sir,” Sentinel said grudgingly, trying not to shuffle nervously as he was slowly circled, the Captain’s red optics staring at him and at his body in a way that was making him downright uncomfortable. “What do you want with me?” he finally blurted out, starting to feel very ill-at-ease under the intense scrutiny.

“Hmm? Oh, not much, I assure you… kiddo,” the captain smirked. “At least, nothing more than any captain would like, I’m sure. I’m just… admiring my new cabin boy.”

“I’m not your cabin boy!... Sir,” Sentinel groused out.

“You think so? That’s not what the maritime laws say. Tell me, kiddo, when did you embark? Not so long ago you know them perfectly well, uh?” Lockdown said as he continued to circle his captive, optics drifting lower, looking appraisingly at the thin waist, hook twitching as he fought not to tear off the clothes of the pretty mech before him. “I guess you don’t. So let me tell you of one rule that most sailors follow, be they privateer, pirates or honest mates. Cabin boys have a very… specific status, just so you know. When a ship is coming down due to an attack, and he is made prisoner, then the captain has perfect right to claim the cabin boy for his own crew.”

“Wh… That’s… that can’t be!” Sentinel sputtered.

“Oh yes it is,” Lockdown chuckled. “Ask some of your own former crewmates if you don’t believe me; I don’t doubt they’ll confirm what I have said. Cabin boys aren’t part of the crew, strictly speaking. They’re considered part of the cargo, as they’re still green… ‘wet’ little things in need of care,” he purred, the double entendre passing far over Sentinel’s helm. “Suffice to say, they make a very acceptable loot,” the privateer said as he came closer, entering what Sentinel considered to be his personal space.

The blue mech didn’t notice right away, his mind scrambling frantically to make sense of what he had heard. He was… loot? How could that be?! The mech had to be lying, he just had to! But… come to think, hadn’t someone said something very similar on his first day, when he had been showed around the Mermaid? He couldn’t remember quite right… Was it possible the privateer wasn’t actually lying?

“So I’m… what? A slave?” he asked aloud.

“My, what an imagination! A slave? I would think not!” Lockdown claimed loudly as he raised his hands in a theatrical way. “You’re a cabin boy, kiddo, just that. Eck, you’ll even continue to get your pay, like you did on your original ship! Claiming you only means that I’m now your employer, until you manage to pay me back. In the meanwhile, you just fulfill your duties as a cabin boy, and myself agree to teach you as you were supposed to by the captain of your original ship. Pretty good arrangement for you, don’t you think?”

Sentinel didn’t answer. Carefully, he tried to consider his options. “I don’t suppose I could refuse?” he asked warily.

The privateer raised an optic ridge. “Refuse? Cabin boys don’t ‘refuse’ anything. As sailors, they’re bound to follow their Captain’s orders and uphold them, as any true sailor. Outright refusal could lend you in the brig for, oh, several orbital cycles, unless I opt out to have you publically whipped for your insolence and breaking the ship's rules,” he mentioned casually, and Sentinel grimaced. That was not a good outcome by any mean.

Clenching his dental plates, he tried to reassure himself that it was alright. After all, if he could just continue working and buy back his ‘freedom’, than there had to be a positive outcome, right? He needed to learn more about sailing before he could enlist as a normal mate, and he couldn’t do that if he was stuck in the brig. Working for that privateer made his fuel tank sink unpleasantly, but according to him, there wasn’t exactly any other choice.

Taking a deep breath, he finally nodded. “Very well, Sir. I’ll… work for you, as the… ‘law’ wills it. When am I expected to start my duties in the kitchen?” he asked with as much respect as he could convain. It wasn’t much, but outright defiance wouldn’t bring him anything but being send to the brig or worse, getting whipped. The Mermaid’s Captain had been a good mech overall, but he had been intransigeant on discipline, and if Sentinel had never received the whip sentence, he had assisted to more than one. He loathed the thought he could end up in that position. So, better play the obedient cabin boy for now and see where it brought him.

He wasn’t prepared, however, for Lockdown tutting. “The kitchen? I would think not, kiddo.”

Sentinel blinked. “But… isn’t it part of my duty? Assist the cook and bring their meals to the crew?” he asked, feeling stupid.

“Oh, it is,” Lockdown agree. “But you see, kiddo, those aren’t the duties I want you to fulfill on board, no -- although you may be called down to do so anyway later on. For now, however, I wish my new cabin boy’s services to be attached to my cabin only,” he almost purred, optics flashing brightly.

“To… to your cabin only, Sir?” Sentinel asked carefully, put out. Sure, cleaning the captain’s cabin and transmitting his order from one part of the ship to another had been part of his duties on the Mermaid, but that was hardly something that would take all his time. “I’m not sure I understand completely, Sir,” he risked further questioning. “I… it’s hardly much work…”

“Hmm? You think so? I would rather think that keeping my berth warm will take much of your time, cutie. As for the 'hard' part... I think it concerns me more than you,” the captain purred as he passed behind Sentinel and pressed himself against him, rubbing his body against the cabin boy’s. Sentinel yelped as he felt something hard pressing against his aft. The frag?!

“What the slag do you think you’re doing?!” he shouted as he tried to trash and take a few steps forward even as Lockdown’s arm shot forward and circled his waist to keep him still, the dangerous hook of the Captain waving before his optics.

“There, there, kiddo, no need to be so alarmed!” the mech chuckled merrily. “You wouldn’t want me to injure you accidentally while you writhe like that, would you?” he said, and the tip of his hook caressed Sentinel’s cheek dangerously, a clear warning. The blue mech forced himself to still, vents working hard. “There; much better, don’t you think? Now, why don’t we try to put ourselves at ease here? I think we are both far too clothed for the occasion.”

“Release me immediately!” Sentinel grunted as a daring hand dived inside his pants, cupping him up between his legs. “I’m not your… your whore!”

“Of course not; you’re my cabin boy, remember?” the other mech leered.

“That’s not in my job description!”

“On the contrary,” Lockdown purred. “Read the fine prints in your engagement contract. Cabin boys are stated to be here not only to learn the rope of sea travelling and ship sailing, cleaning the decks and helping the cook, but also to answer the Captain’s… ‘needs’ should he request so. Given your reaction, I suppose the oaf that commenting your ship didn’t request your services before? Tell me, kiddo, are you a virgin?” he leered, his cupping of Sentinel’s interface panel becoming a full grab.

“Wh… No!” the blue mech sputtered as he tried to free himself. That had to be a nightmare! He writhed and trashed, intend on freeing himself despite his bonds, the mech behind him chuckling.

“My, my, what a fiery temper! You should calm down, cutie, you’re going to end up overheating. Hmm, perhaps I should do you a favor and make you… cool down by making you drop your clothes.”

His hook went down through the thin fabric of Sentinel’s shirt, tearing it apart easily, denuding his shoulders even as the blue mech yelped in fright and surprise, his struggling stalled -- that thing looked very sharp and he didn’t want it to scratch his paint! Scraps of fabric flew everywhere as the hook methodically tore down the sleeves, the back, the front of the shirt before digging lower and starting on his pants. Sentinel swallowed and cried out as his chassis was thoroughly exposed, what wasn’t torn being yanked down until there were barely scraps of fabric clinging to his frame.

“Hmm, I was right; your aft is even nicer when it isn’t covered,” the privateer leered as he fondled said aft, to Sentinel’s utter humiliation. Once more he lunged forward, trying to free himself from the hold the lecherous captain had over him and, to his surprise, he stumbled forward and fell to the floor with a yelp as the other mech just let go of him.

“Careful, cutie, you’re going to hurt yourself if you continue like that. Oh, but you may already had strained something with that fall! Here, let me take a good look at you!” Lockdown chuckled as he scooped the cabin boy in his arms and carried him over, bridal-style, to his berth, paying no mind to the way the younger mech struggled to break free.

“Let me down! Let me down immediately!”

“Of course kiddo,” the privateer chuckled as he dropped his charge on the soft, comfortable mattress. Sentinel tried to bolt, but an arm caught him around the waist once more and pulled him farther toward the center of the berth as Lockdown climbed after him. “Stop struggling like that, cutie,” the tattooed mech grumbled even as he straddled the thrashing cabin boy, pinning him face down into the mattress.

Spirited alright, he mused as he received a glare in answer. Good. He liked that in a mech; things wouldn’t be nearly as fun when his lovers were meek little things who passively followed his orders. At the same time, the constant panicky struggling was annoying. Using his valid hand to press against the swearing mech shoulders, effectively stopping him from struggling too much, he let his hook rummage behind the berth headboard. With a noise of triumph, he yanked on the chain and collar that were hidden there and brought them over, losing no time in fastening the collar around the cabin boy’s neck. He had to try several times, as the cute mech beneath him tried his best to make him dismount, and his hook wasn’t ideal to work with fastening restrain. In the hand, though, he leaned back with a satisfied grunt, releasing the cabin boy as he did so.

The mech turned and bolted back, curling himself against the headboard and watching him with scared optics.

“What the Pit do you think you’re doing?!” the younger mech screeched.

Hmm, it was high time Lockdown addressed certain issues before the pretty youthful thing before he got any wrong ideas about the situation. Smiling down brightly at the mech beneath him, he raised his hand… and backhanded him, eliciting a startled, pained shout from the cabin boy. He did so thrice more before judging that the mech was calmed enough to handle a very needed conversation. He hadn’t hit with all his strenght, of course -- he had no intention to truly hurt the pretty morsel sprawled on his berth. However, the effect was instantaneous as, under the shock of actually been hit, the blue mech froze. Lockdown smirked briefly before schooling his face in a nicer expression; perfect.

Gently cupping one of the abused cheeks, he stroked it with his thumb in a soothing manner, never departing from his amiable smile even as he was watched with frozen shock. “Now, sweetspark, I think it’s high time I clarify the situation. First off, remember that you are a cabin boy and I AM the Captain; if you do not refer to me with the proper respect, then your pretty cheeks are going to become quite red, and it will not be from embarrassment alone,” he warned. “Is that clear?”

Sentinel nodded reluctantly. “Very clear… Sir.” His cheeks stung madly, and his mind reeled as it sunk in he had been hit. Nobody had ever hit him before, and as he looked into the Captain’s red optics, he swallowed nervously as he realized the mech was quite serious. He also had the acute feeling that slaps would be the less of his problems should he truly angers this mech. “I’m… I’m sorry, Sir. What… what do you expect of me?” he asked hesitantly, swallowing back his pride.

Lockdown let out a satisfied grunt. “Good. So you can learn, eh?” The stroking of his thumb became slower and he leaned forward. Sentinel tensed as a kiss was pressed to his forehead, and he resisted the urge to whimper. Primus, he wished the mech would disappear. The Captain’s lips slide from his forehead toward his other cheek, and Sentinel shuddered as he felt a slick glossa actually lick him. The privateer captain then leaned back, apparently satisfied. “No need to be so tense, sweetspark!” he chuckled as he watched the bound mech. Poor kid looked like a cornered Glitchmouse, fearfully watching the Cybercat coming closer. Eh. Cute. That wouldn’t do, though.

Time to lay down the rules. “I’m sure you’re a smart little thing,” he commented lightly, continuing to stroke the still tender cheek. “And like all smart little things, I’m sure you’ll be very attentive to whatever I say, yes? Now, listen carefully, because I don’t intend to repeat myself. First off, as any mate on board, you’ll follow my rules. Any infraction, any offense will be rewarded with the lash. Clear enough?” Sentinel nodded warily. That didn’t deviate much from the rules on the Mermaid; the Captain too had been intransigeant on proper discipline.

Lockdown took a thoughtful expression. “Cute as you are, however, that’d be a pity. Hmm, perhaps a spanking will be more in stead with you,” he teased. Sentinel clenched his dental plates and stayed silent. The privateer grinned. “Smart boy. You already understood backtalk was against the rules, and I didn’t even have to point it out. That merits a reward,” he leered, and Sentinel jerked back in fright, making the corsair laugh loudly.

“So nervous! Aww, don’t be like that, kiddo. If you’re an obedient mech, then your aft risk nothing,” he said, pressing himself against the younger mech, pinning him down. “Well, nothing more than being tapped. Second rule of board, cutie,” he warned. “As I said before, you’re ‘attached’ to my cabin.” He chuckled at the pun. “I expect you to clean up the place everyday, from the floor to the ceiling. When not cleaning, you will fix up my shirts and pants, the sheets, the curtains, the covers… anything that need your attention. You know how to sew, of course?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sentinel nodded reluctantly. Of course he knew; fixing up his own clothes and those of the Mermaid’s Captain had been on his usual list of chores.

“Good lad.” He patted Sentinel’s shoulder almost mockingly. “What else would there be for you to do? Oh, yes. I have treasures in this room as well, dispersed in the various chests. I expect you to polish the coins, jewelry and candlesticks until they shine. As well, you’ll make sure the lanterns are always furnished in oil and that they do not extinguish. You will also change the berth sheets and… warm the berth itself by cuddling inside,” he leered openly at the cabin boy. Sentinel’s cheeks reddened in shame and he shuffled nervously, as much as Lockdown’s body pressed against him allowed him to anyway.

“That, of course, will be your tasks when I’m not in. When I’m here, however, I want you to always relocate to the berth so we can… spend some quality time together,” he chuckled even as he started to molest the immobilized body under him, groping various body parts and letting his hook slide on others.

“Sir!” Sentinel choked out. “Sir! N…!”

“Ah, ah,” Lockdown tutted. “‘No’ is a word I don’t wish to hear in berth, cutie. I’d be most… displeased if you did say it,” he warned.

Sentinel’s Spark skipped a beat. “Please, Sir,” he whispered. Better sit on his pride for now, less he’d risk angering the Captain -- who had his very sharp hook pointed just into a seam of his armor, and thus could easily pierce one of his energon lines. “I’m… sorry,” he added reluctantly. “I… I will not do it again.”

The privateer hummed. “I suppose I could accept those excuses… but I don’t know. They don’t seem very… sincere. I think I’d need more than word to pardon you, my dear.” His optics trailed down to Sentinel’s codpiece and he licked his lips in a very suggestive way. The blue mech swallowed.

“Ah… Sir… wouldn’t… wouldn’t it be easier if you freed my hands?” he said quickly, trying to stall for an answer.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Lockdown allowed. “As it is, you haven’t done much to convince me to free them, have you? If you can prove me you’re a good mech, then I’ll… consider cutting your bonds,” he purred.

Sentinel’s Spark sunk. What proof could he give, when the first and only thing he wanted what to bolt out of this room? Had he not be collared to the berth, he would have tried to make a run for it, bound hands or not. But… make a run for where, exactly? The hard reality of the situation continued to sink in. He was essentially trapped. They were in the middle of the ocean, with no land around. Sentinel didn’t even know their current coordinates, and he didn’t know how to orientate himself even if he did. Assuming he managed to get out of this cabin at this very moment, there was still the problem of being naked, his chassis exposed to any crude and lustful looks of the sailors onboard, and he didn’t doubt for a second they would try to manhandle him and have the same… ‘freedoms’ than the Captain was currently taking with him.

Slag the fact he was ‘just a cabin boy’!

He shuttered his optics a moment as he swallowed. “Do you… do you wish me to kiss you, Captain?” he asked, voice shaking slightly as he forced himself to not let his revulsion show.

“Hmm, a kiss would be a start,” the other mech acknowledged. “However, I was thinking of something more… physical,” he grinned as he shifted position. Sentinel onlined his optics again and thought they were going to bulge out. Well, there was something bulging alright, very near his face. The Captain’s pants were all… there was something very hard and big inside, Sentinel realized. Oh Primus; he… he wanted Sentinel to…?

“S… Sir?” he whimpered uneasily.

“Shh, cutie. Just open your mouth and show me how sorry you are for not having been a good boy, okay?” the privateer said as he unbuttoned and got rid of his pants, revealing his retracted interface panel and his stiff, fully pressurized spike. Sentinel swallowed again. It seemed… well, it was bigger than his own spike, at any rate, and Sentinel always took pride in the fact he was particularly well ‘equipped’ for his frame size. Primus… was he truly expected to… to take it in? The blunt tip of that spike brushed against his closed lips and he almost wept as he realized that, yes, the mech wanted him to, to suck it!

“Open wide,” the lecherous mech grinned, and Sentinel ducked his head to the side, optics wide with panic. “Shy, aren’t we? Come on, cutie! Show me what that big mouth of you can do,” he said as he let his jacket slide off his shoulders, leaving him only clad with his shirt, which he started to make a show of removing as well while leaning forward, letting his pressurized spike poke against the cabin boy’s cheek. Drops of pre-transfluid strained the otherwise spotless plating and Sentinel had to refrain himself from swearing; it was disgusting!

Though probably not as disgusting as realizing he was now ‘naked’ in a berth with another ‘naked’ mech who had every intention to frag him, and frag him hard from what it seemed.

“Well?” the Captain rumbled as he thrusted his hips forward, his spike brushing all over Sentinel’s cheek. “Do we need to have a conversation on proper respect and duties again, kiddo?”

“N… no Sir,” Sentinel stammered. Swallowing once more, he tried to steel himself and, Spark heavy with grief, he gave a small, tentative lick to the underside of that stiff spike before jerking back, trying not to gag at the taste. It seemed to really amuse the privateer.

“Very, very shy. You’re sure you aren’t a virgin?” he asked casually. “You sure act like one.”

“I usually don’t suck spikes, Sir,” Sentinel grumbled before he could stop himself.

“Is that so? Well, time for you to learn how to,” Lockdown commented simply. “That small lick was nice. Do it again, and more frankly, please.” The ‘please’ was clearly mocking, and Sentinel seethed inside to be ordered around like that. But given his currently inextricable situation… Oh, the very moment they would reach shore, he would make a run for it! Yes, the moment they stopped in a port, he was running away. Trying his luck with possible hostile local couldn’t be worse than be a, a whore for that slagger Lockdown!

“Well, cutie? Are you disobeying a direct order from your Captain?” The tone was just threatening enough to break Sentinel out of his self-misery and, with a grimace, he approached his face from the spike bobbling right in front of him. His lips parted slightly as he pressed them against the tip of that monstrous, stiff thing in an awkward kiss. Lockdown hummed in approval, but his hook remained pointed toward Sentinel, a silent ‘encouragement’ for him to hurry up and do more. Gathering his courage, the blue mech parted his lips further, his mouth making ‘ perfect ‘o’ shape around the tip as his glossa shyly gave a few licks to the portion that was entering his mouth.

He grimaced at the taste of pre-fluid that spread over his tongue as he did so; some people might have found it sweet but to him, it was just revolting. He almost gagged, to the Captain’s amusement.

“What, you do not like, kiddo? Don’t you worry, I’m sure you’ll develop a taste for it soon enough,” he joked. “Oh, and if you know what’s good for you, cutie? Don’t bite,” he added as he thrusted his hips forward suddenly, pushing a good part of his length into Sentinel’s mouth and throat. Now the blue mech did gag as his intakes tried to take in the unexpected girth all at once, and he made muffled sounds of protest that just seemed to revv the privateer even more than he had been before. Belatedly, Sentinel realized his attempts at speaking were causing vibrations and that indeed the Captain truly enjoyed feeling them along his spike. He fought down the reflex to indeed bite down on the invading appendage, as he dimly realized that even if he did, then he’d get shoulders deep in a whole new level of troubles. He had no intention to get tied up to the mast and whipped until his paint had flaked away, for example.

His throat labored to take in everything, throbbing almost painfully as it did so, but finally his intakes loosened enough so he didn’t have the impression to choke anymore, and his shoulders sagged in relief.

That small gesture was rewarded by a pat on his helm, making him glance angrily at the mech atop him, who just grinned. “Now, see how easy it is when you’re a good boy, kiddo? It isn’t so bad, is it? I must say, you’re mouth feel wonderful around me; I can’t wait to see if your valve will as well,” he chuckled as a flash of panic entered Sentinel’s optics. He patted him again. “Now suck, kiddo, and give it a good try. I’d be very… disappointed if you didn’t do your very best.”

That was warning enough for the cabin boy who forced himself to forget all about possibly -- most likely -- getting pounded into later on and tried to concentrate on the task at hand, his glossa wrapping hesitantly around the girth in his mouth as he worked it over the best he could in those conditions and without much experience in oral. Well, not much experience in spike-sucking at any rate; he wasn’t half-bad at pleasuring a valve with his lips and glossa, as his last girlfriend had let him known. Sentinel prefered smaller, more delicate partners, and he was fonder of spiking than of taking a spike himself; but go try and tell that to that… that odious lecher!

Grunting and grumbling as much as he could with something that large down his intakes -- which sadly wasn’t much -- he tried to do his best to please the Captain. He indeed did the best he could, caressing the strong hope that if he made him overload in his mouth -- as much as the idea made him shudder -- then perhaps the mech would be too tired or too spent to try and reach for ‘second base’.

His efforts, he was somewhat pleased to notice, seemed to work. The privateer Captain had started to moan and pant as the cabin boy worked him over, making him come closer and closer to the edge. Little jets of clear pre-transfluid kept seeping out of that still too stiff and too large spike, coating the inside of Sentinel’s mouth with their taste, which he tried not to care about even as he felt it dribble down his intakes.

“Hmm… ah… oh, yes, continue like that, kiddo,” Lockdown panted as he grabbed Sentinel’s helm with his valid hand to steady himself. “Frag, the way you go at it, one wouldn’t believe you’re a novice. Gonna become a pro in no time, I’m sure.”

Primus, he hoped not, Sentinel thought distastefully as he tried to ignore the comment and focus on making the other mech overload. The sooner the better, for his peace of mind. For a while, there was only the sounds of heavy pants and muttered ‘praises’ over how ‘talented his glossa was’, and Sentinel’s Spark settled, albeit uneasily, into routine as he convinced himself it was just like sucking a big energon lollipop. If he shuttered his optics and tried to ignore the sounds and the fact he was bound, then the illusion halfway worked.

That’s it, until Lockdown suddenly retired his spike, making Sentinel choke once more and sputter as droplets of fluid dropped out of his mouth while he coughed, caught by surprise by the unexpected move. “Wh…?” he sputtered as Lockdown bend forward to claim his lips in an hungry kiss, locking their lips together and slipping his glossa inside the cabin boy’s mouth which he started to explore thoroughly. His freed spike, in the meanwhile, kept poking in a very insistent and uncomfortable way at Sentinel’s thigh, making the blue mech’s Spark skip a beat in fright.

Fragfragfragfragfrag!

Lockdown finally broke the kiss with a grunt of contentment, looking at the out of breath Sentinel with lustful optics. “Time to open up, sweetspark,” he singsonged as he let his hand slide down to the blue mech’s hip, watching the area between his thighs hungrily.

Sentinel shuddered. “I…”

“Kiddo, think carefully about what you’re going to say,” the privateer said with a look in his optics, his lust decreasing slightly. “Either you let that panel of yours slide open, or I’m unscrewing it for you and toss it overboard,” he warned. Actually, he would probably do the second sooner rather than later; given how… unruly his new cabin boy was, the Captain didn’t think he’d have the patience to coerce him open each time they would lay in berth together. Of course, he avoided voicing it aloud for now, instead bringing a finger to tap impatiently at the closed panel. “Well?”

Shaking in humiliation and fear, Sentinel obeyed, mentally swearing at the mech atop him. If only he was free…

Lockdown leaned back and sat on his heels as he watched the panelling slide open, licking his lips as he caught size of the prim-looking little valve and its external node, barely glancing at the spike housing as he bend forward to get a proper, closer look at the goods. There was more than enough time to play with his newest toy spike later on. For now, what he wanted was to pound into that gorgeous body and make the cabin boy scream his name in overload again and again until he passed out. He had the feeling it wouldn’t be so hard.

Gently, his fingers delicately spread the outer folds of the valve, and he rubbed small circles against the small opening. It was completely dry, as he had suspected. A pity; he’d need to engage in more foreplay before truly enjoying the main course. Almost lazily, he started to lick two of his digits, making a show of it as he grinned down at the bound cabin boy, who was looking back at him with a strange twitch on his face. That made Lockdown chuckle; prideful little mech, was he not? That promised him lots of fun later on.

Once he judged his fingers had been sufficiently coated with oral lubricant, he brought them out then started to rub the first one against the rim of the valve, making his pretty cabin boy whimper. Normally, he’d be diving between those lovely legs and eating out that valve with gusto, but since the cutie hadn’t been a very good mech so far, Lockdown decided the ‘treat’ would wait until he was properly broken in. Fingers would have to do for now.

He watched, both pleased and amused, as the blue mech tried to squirm, legs kicking furtively and hips shaking right and left to escape his fingers. Sadly, with Lockdown’s whole weight on his legs and so little space to wriggle, all he did was help Lockdown rub his wet finger all over his valve’s folds, which in turn made him moan and, as Lockdown noticed with a grin, heating himself up.

A last stroke to the folds, and the privateer’s finger started to fully poke at the rim, short of entering it as it tested the softness of the metal and sought out any sign valve lubrication had started. There was, sadly, none so far and with a grunt of displeasure, Lockdown pushed the tip of his finger inside, making his new cabin boy choke on a scream.

“Sir!”

Lockdown didn’t answer as he started to rub his finger everywhere, making it rotate in order to stroke as many nods as possible. He wanted that valve wet and ready for him, and he wanted it soon. He pushed further inside, just an inch, still stroking, rubbing and spreading the narrow passage. Vents started to work harder as the shaking body of his new toy started to heat up more and more, his valve involuntarily squeezing around the invading finger. Sentinel cried out. Lockdown just chuckled before stopping abruptly as he felt… something inside the valve he was exploring.

That felt like a seal… or rather, like an incomplete one, he thought, frowning. It certainly seemed the have the elasticity of a seal, easily pushed and bending under his careful pushes, but without completely giving away. And still, unlike a true virgin seal, there was a tear inside, he could feel it as he probed. His cabin boy whimpered and moaned in answer to the manipulation as Lockdown pondered.

There was a seal… an improperly broken one at that. That could mean two things. First option, the mech underneath him hadn’t used his valve to interface in a very long time, such allowing for the formation of a new seal; it could happen as the passage narrowed once more and a special kind of lubricant hardened inside. The new ‘seal’, however, lacked the thickness of the first, thus allowing easier penetration when one became sexually active again. Second option, the seal he was feeling was the original, and it hadn’t been truly and properly broken the first time his cabin boy had taken a spike. Lockdown knew it could happen if one’s lover wasn’t ‘well-equipped’ and its spike too short to push deep inside, up to the back of the valve and the reproductive chamber’s narrower passage at its peak.

He looked down speculatively at the blue mech. Now, which one was it: abstinence, or reluctance to take a spike? Hmm, seeing how easily flustered the little thing was, then he guessed… both. Lockdown couldn’t help it; he chuckled. “Mah, would you look at what I found! Not a virgin, eh? Then who did you, pretty bot? You used a toy, perhaps? Or did you let a Minibot frag you?” The cabin boy’s cheeks reddened noticeably, and Lockdown chuckled louder. “No? A Minibot, truly? Aww, sweetie, were you afraid he’d hurt you with his tiny spike that you never sought out someone bigger to introduce you to the wonders of interfacing?”

“I’m not afraid!” Sentinel snapped out, feeling thoroughly humiliated. So what if his one attempt at taking it in the valve had been with a Minibot? He had… wanted to be on the safe side, that was all! Sure, his spike got into valves pretty easily, but he just couldn’t fathom how his own would be able to accommodate a spike’s girth. And truth to be told, he wasn’t very tempted to find out. He had only done so once or twice to at least try it out and see if he liked the experience, and his brief tentatives had comforted him in the idea that he definitely wasn’t a valve-mech.

“I’m sure you’re not,” the privateer said smoothly. “Big, tough mechs like you never fear anything. So it’s not like you need to panic over me stuffing you full with my big spike, is it? Don’t you worry, though; I promise I’ll be gentle and will take good care of you,” he cooed almost mockingly as he started to pump his finger in and out of the barely damp valve, making the bound mech yelp and moan helplessly. Already, Lockdown could feel the cabin boy’s valve moistening as he continued the thrusting motion, keeping a slow but steady pace and nodding in approval each time Sentinel writhed and moaned. “See, it’s not so bad, is it, cutie?”

He watched with a spreading grin the way the cabin boy was starting to unwillingly relax under his ministration. The valve his digit was exploring was starting to loosen in answer to the lack of tenseness, growing hotter and aroused, already clenching almost greedily around his finger. With a mirthless chuckle, he inserted the second one, still coated with his oral lubricant. Sentinel’s hips buckled under the intrusion as he cried sharply, caught off guard as his opening was stretched wider. Lockdown lost no time in spreading his fingers apart, effectively scissoring the port open, smiling as he was rewarded with a trail of pale-colored lubricant dripping out of the cabin boy’s body.

“Would you look at that,” he commented airily. “I think someone is starting to become very aroused here; want me to help you ride it off?”

“Pl… please!” he whimpered. “Do…”

Lockdown twisted his fingers suddenly, making Sentinel keen loudly, valve clenching hard around the two invading digits, almost sucking them deeper in. “...n’t,” he finished, panting and moaning as Lockdown continued his incessant scissoring motions.

“Hmm? What was that? Were you saying something, cutie?” the privateer cooed, leaning forward as if to hear him better. Sentinel just looked at him with parted lips, vents working hard to try and cool his overheating body, thinking better than to actually repeat himself. Soft whimper escaped him, his frame shuddering from the onslaught of sensations he was feeling between his legs. His spike started to poke out of its housing, half-pressurized already. Lockdown looked at it with a raised optic ridge. “And what do we have here?”

He brushed his hook against the hardening staff, making Sentinel moan loudly. “Sensitive, eh? You poor darling,” Lockdown chuckled. “If you’re a good mech, then I’ll play with it. Fair, isn’t it?” he winked.

No, not at all, Sentinel thought desperately, but he clenched his dental plates shut as he felt the fingers inside him reach out and tease one cluster of very sensitive nods, trying desperately to not shout out in pleasure. That would have been so embarrassing… though probably not as much as realizing he was becoming quite soaked, condensation forming over his frame while steady trails of lubricant kept dripping out of his far-too aroused valve.

He couldn’t help it; he let out a sob.

“There, there, cutie,” Lockdown cooed. “Nothing to fear. Trust me and relax,” he said as he let his finger slip out of the soaked valve. Sentinel sobbed once more, in relief this time, before yelping again as his left leg was hooked up by, well, the privateer’s hook and lifted up to rest against a spiked shoulder. The hook stayed firmly lodged around his foreleg, holding the blue mech in place as Lockdown took hold of his stiff spike, still coated with Sentinel’s oral lubricant.

The cabin boy could only watch with dread as Lockdown slowly guided his spike toward the dripping valve, until the tip was pressing down between the fold, slowly pressing against the rim that was already stretching to let the whole girth slide inside smoothly.

“Nonononono!” he panicked, trying to jerk back, which wasn’t easy with his leg up and maintained like that or his bound hands and the strain they were starting to make on his shoulders. As it was, he barely moved at all, just managing to prop himself up against a pillow -- which just helped to trap him further, he realized, Spark sinking. The blunt tip was nudging him apart, already sinking past the rim and inside the hot, wet folds. “Nooooo,” he keened, desperately wanting something to grab to brace himself.

“No need to get so loud just yet, kiddo,” the privateer snicked, smiling in good humor as he guided his spike deeper inside, going slowly as to not cause any damage to the not-quite-virgin valve. He could already feel the tip nudging apart the half-broken, half-reconstructed seal and with a smile, he let go of his spike to grab the younger mech’s hip and hold the both of them steady before he thrusted once, strong and deep.

He felt the seal completely give away in the move, and he hissed in pleasure as it made the valve clench hard around his length. The cabin boy shouted, optics widening and nearly getting white under the effects of pain -- which was sadly unavoidable in such circumstances -- and surprise. He moaned in pain, cleaning fluid leaking off of his optics as he did so, and Lockdown had to bend forward to silence him with a kiss, sealing their lips together for a long while, staying utterly still himself as he felt his lover’s valve ripple around his member. He longed to just thrust in earnest already, but doing so would have been bad manners. Besides, he didn’t want his cabin boy broken; berth games wouldn’t be nearly as fun if he was.

After a while, he broke the kiss, pleased at seeing how swollen the cabin boy’s lips were from the few nibbles he had taken at it during the exchange. “Beautiful,” he purred before licking away the drops of cleaning fluids that had dropped from his new toy’s pretty optics.

“P… please,” the blue mech whimpered, not knowing if he should wiggle to try and get this massive things out of him or not. He wanted it gone… but if he did the slightest move, he just knew his body was going to explode in pain and contrary sensations. His valve was still rippling, and despite the pain he still felt, although more duly than before, there were hints of… of pleasure coursing through his frame.

“Shh,” Lockdown shushed him not too unkindly. “It’s alright, cutie, I know it must still hurt. Don’t you worry, your Captain just know the trick to make you feel very good,” he purred as he reached for Sentinel’s swollen external node with his valide hand, pinching it delicately between his fingers. The cabin boy gave a sharp cry of pleasure, and Lockdown chuckled. “My, that’s a scream from the Spark! Want me to continue? Of course you do!”

Looking down grinning at the bound mech, he started to rub the node in slow circles, watching intently as Sentinel’s frame contorted in various grimaces as he tried -- most often vainly -- to not cry out. His valve was loosening and growing hot and wet again, Lockdown noticed with satisfaction as he continued to arouse his pretty cabin boy. Good. That’d meant that sound enough, he’d be able to start pounding into that gorgeous body without risking damaging it. For now though, he was having way too much fun stroking and teasing the pretty thing gracing his berth. From the looks of him and the way his valve rippled, he was pretty close to overloading, too.

His cabin boy first overload; that was a treat to savor, he decided, lips curling upward as he had an idea to hasten it. He gave the nod a few more circular rubs before stopping suddenly, making Sentinel keen. The privateer’s hand wrapped itself around the base of the blue mech’s pressurized spike -- which was of a respectable girth and length for a mech of his size, Lockdown noticed dispassionately -- and started to pump it lazily.

The results were almost instantaneous -- Sentinel’s optics widened and he choked out on a scream as fluid bursted out of his pressurized member, spraying over his belly and over the Captain’s hand, dribbling down his spike and between his thighs, staining the sheets underneath them. His valve clenched hard around the spike nestled inside him, making Lockdown hiss in pleasure.

“Yeeesssss! Oh, cutie, you’re a keeper,” he panted as he fought to not overload himself amidst the quick, incessant ripples of the tight valve he was stuffing. Sentinel keened softly, his vocalizer trying desperately to reboot -- the overload having reduced him to static noises. Lockdown grinned and pumped the depressuring spike some more before letting go of it and making a few more rubbing motion over the external node. Sentinel writhed, panting.

“I think that’s enough foreplay, don’t you think?” the privateer asked casually. “Time to truly enjoy the main course. Brace yourself, cutie,” he winked as he let go of the node to grab the blue mech’s hip and started to slowly pull back from Sentinel’s wet port. He had barely moved an inch out when he thrusted his hips forward, burying himself back and making Sentinel make choked, static-filled noises. His valve squeezed, and Lockdown sighed. “Oh yes, just like that. Going to have a lot of fun with you, kiddo.”

And with that, he started fragging the cabin boy in earnest. His spike slide easily inside and out of the pretty mech’s valve, helped by the copious amount of lubricant that kept trailing out of the valve all around Lockdown’s thick member. The blue mech moaned and whimpered, wingling as Lockdown groaned, his grip on Sentinel’s leg and hip tightening in order to stop the other mech from squirming so much and out of his grasp.

“Frag, kiddo, frag… oooooh, yes,” he groaned again. The younger mech just keened as his valve unwittingly clenched and rippled around the spike pounding into him. Oooh, but that mech felt so good around him, so hot and wet and just fragging perfect! Yeah, this one was a keeper, and Lockdown had a feeling the Death’s Head new cabin boy would stay onboard for quite a while. Part of his CPU was already calculating the normal wages of a cabin boy, and the price he, as Captain and the captor of such a pretty ‘bot, had the right to fix before allowing the younger ‘bot to end his service on the ship. Just for the pleasure to tap that aft as often and as long as possible, he was going to set it quite high. Oh yes, the kind of money one had to gather for vorns, and every solar cycle during said vorns, he’d have a hot berthwarmer sucking or riding his spike… 

The very thought made him come unexpectedly, and he emptied himself deep inside Sentinel with a roar. The feeling of hot transfluid bursting into him was enough to make the cabin boy topple over the edge, and he too overloaded just as intently as the first time, valve squeezing and rippling, sucking up Lockdown’s fluids. Eh. He’d have to make sure the pretty ‘bot wouldn’t get himself sparked, Lockdown thought dimly, letting his depressurized spike slide out and draping himself over the bound mech’s body, gently nuzzling his neck to reward and comfort him. If he got Sparked, then he’d be forced to disembark him.

Tss. He’d have to call up the ship’s surgeon later on. Perhaps have him cut out some lines alimenting the reproductive chambers in nanites; that ought to be efficient to prevent any unexpected pregnancy, and be easily fixable should the need be warranted. In the meanwhile, he was going to cuddle with that sweet cabin boy of his, nap for a moment, and frag him some more.

Blue optics looked at him with a mix of fear, hate and shame as he patted Sentinel’s helm. How cute. He stared right back, smirking. The optics really were a nice shade of blue. Not deep like the ocean, and not clear like the sky either, but somewhere in-between, bright and beautiful. One could lose himself in those optics… though Lockdown thought he’d rather lose himself in that tight valve of his.

“... could you release me from my bonds?... Sir? Please?” came the question, muttered with a still static-laced voice as the mech turned his head to side to break off optics contact. It was costing him a lot to even say those words, but what choice did he have, truly? He needed his hands freed, if only because his shoulders were starting to truly hurt him. And, if they were free, then he’d be able to undo that stupid collar that bound him to the berth the moment the Captain left his cabin. From there… from there, he had no idea of what he would do, to be honest, but getting out of his bonds would be a start.

The Captain chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know; you haven’t been such a good boy yet that I’d trust you with your hands free,” he commented airily.

Sentinel blinked. “What?! But I…”

“You’ve just started out your duties after all, cabin boy,” the Captain said smoothly. “I don’t know yet if you can be trusted to fully handle them, especially the more… skillful matters. Which is why I think another trial test is in order to convince me,” he purred as he rubbed himself against the pretty mech’s body, his spike stiffening once more. Forget the cuddle and the nap for more; he wanted to frag that aft again, and he wanted to do it now.

Sentinel’s optics widened. “Again?!” he sputtered. How did that mech recover so fast?! Slagging pervert!

Lockdown just laughed even as he leered. “Of course, cutie! Now, be a good cabin boy, and fulfill your duties toward your Captain…”


	2. Sailing verse: Lockdown/Sentinel/Blackarchnia- training the cabin boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Party Reply: Sailing verse: Lockdown/Sentinel/Blackarchnia- training the cabin boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here comes the first snippet taking place in this verse. I hope you'll like. :)

This had to be a nightmare, Sentinel thought desperately. That he was stuck on the Death’s Head as a cabin boy and frag toy to Captain Lockdown, he had managed to deal with -- mainly by thinking that, once they reached a port, any port, he’d be able to give the whole crew the split and disappear on the streets. Sadly, he hadn’t managed to.

That slagger Lockdown had only allowed him to leave the ship by his side… and holding him collared and on a leash to lead and drag him around. That had been incredibly humiliating to be paraded like that on the port, with sailors whistling and asking the privateer how ‘good’ his cabin boy was.

And now, to top his previous humiliation, they were… here. In that den of perdition, in that… that brothel headed by one of the ugliest femme had ever had the displeasure to lay his optics on. Not only that, but he was, on his hands and knees, aft high in the air, gagged, bound… and both the privateer and the madam were looking at him with hungry optics that were just terrifying him. He had missed some of the conversation at he had been too busy trying to free himself to no avail, but now he couldn’t help and try to catch what they were speaking about. Were they speaking of… training him?!

“Mmmmmph! Mmmpppppppph! Nnmppmmmphhh!” he tried to protest. There was only one kind of training a brothel madame could give people, and he definitely didn’t want it!

“Shh, pet,” Lockdown said as he patted his helm. “I’m talking with the lady here.” He turned to the femme. “You see what I meant, Blackarachnia?”

“Hmm, yes. Rather unruly and loud, isn’t he?” the femme hummed. “That said, I like loud mechs. They’re always… very fun to tame,” she added, her voice turning into a purr as she made the crop she was holding crack in her palm. “Do you want me to use the standard method, or do you have something special in mind?”

“I was thinking of borrowing the Black Room,” the privateer rumbled, and the femme purred even louder.

Sentinel swallowed; whatever that room was, it didn’t bode well for him at all…


	3. Prompt Party Reply: Lockdown/Sentinel/?- Serving guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's part of the cabin boy's duties to entertain the guests the Captain receive in his cabin...

“You have him well-trained, I must say,” Swindle commented as he sipped at his cup of energon, gently petting the blue helm that was bobbling between his thighs, sucking on his spike. “Hmm, yes, just like that… Roll your glossa to the other side… Aaah, yessss!”

In his own chair opposing the one of his ‘guest’, Captain Lockdown chuckled as he watched his cabin boy ‘service’ the merchant with great attention. Hands behind his back, as he had been allowed no contact but that of his mouth, on his knees, the cabin boy made a very arousing image. Especially when his optics drifted lower, toward the mech’s sweet aft, revealing that the mech had no interface panel left -- Lockdown had made good on his threat to toss it overboard -- and that his valve was currently stuffed full by a huge false spike that had been too massive to entirely fit inside the blue mech’s body.

He was half-expecting his pretty cabin boy to try and get it out, but apparently, his training was paying off, and aside of a few twitches and some tears as well as pleading to take the thing out, Sentinel hadn’t tried to do so himself. Good. Very good. The time they had spend on shore at Madame Blackarachnia’s Red House with her best ‘protegees’ had been time well-spent. His cabin boy was far less ‘rebellious’ now, though he still had a sharp glossa. Lockdown didn’t mind, though. It was part of the blue mech’s charm, aside of his wonderful aft.

“Oh, you know how it goes,” the privateer said smoothly in answer to the merchant. “There’s nothing I can’t make a mech under my orders do with some time and… ‘care’,” he chuckled. Especially when he had some help to dispense said ‘care’, but Swindle didn’t need to know that.

“I’m sure. Say, don’t you want to sell him to me? I could give you a good price, and I know a few Quintesson Sultans who would pay a hefty price to have such a well-trained cutie in their harem. Oy, don’t stop sucking, cabin boy,” the merchant added as Sentinel seemed to choke.

He couldn’t have heard right! He desperately tried to glance behind him, toward Lockdown. Not the Quints! At least by being a cabin boy, he’d be able to eventually escape servitude -- as soon as he payed the price asked by the Captain. But if he landed on a Quintesson slave market…! No! Lockdown had promised him!

“This is an interesting proposition, Swindle,” the privateer said as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ll keep it under consideration. But for now, I’m quite attached to my cabin boy, as you can imagine.”

“Understandable,” Swindle nodded. “But if you’re ever tempted by my offer, let me know.”

“Oh, if I ever do, you’ll be the first one informed,” the privateer smirked. He looked down at Sentinel again. “Well, kiddo, what are you waiting to get our guest off? Then you’ll come suck mine as well,” he added as he unbuttoned his pants and let his panel slide aside. His cabin boy tensed for a few kliks before returning to his task at hand. And, from Swindle’s pleased moans, he had redoubled efforts to make the tan mech come in his mouth.

The privateer just chuckled. Amazing, what one could do with the proper motivation…


	4. Sailing Woes: Ultra Magnus/Rodimus + Lockdown/Sentinel - “Your cabin boy is well trained, Lockdown. I hope mine is pleasing you?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two captains meet at sea...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another short piece in the Sailing verse, brought to you by a prompt.

Given how vast the Cobalt Sea was, it was extremely rare to come across another vessel -- especially one of the Royal Navy itself, for most of the time, the Death’s Head only met with merchant ships, or enemy ships they sunk after looting them. Still, it happened, and when Captain Lockdown the privateer met one, he made sure to invite his fellow Captain on board for a dinner and some subsequent… pleasant distractions.

Which, Sentinel thought grudgingly, explained his current situation, kneeling to the floor with his head bobbing between Captain Ultra Magnus’ thighs as he sucked on his spike. The older mech seemed pleased enough by his efforts, gently patting his helm while sighing. When Lockdown did it, it felt mocking. With this mech… it felt almost nice. It certainly helped Captain Lockdown had allowed him to wear loose pants while he served dinner helped by fellow cabin boy Rodimus, and that Captain Ultra Magnus hadn’t asked him to remove them yet. Apparently, the mech didn’t force his subordinate to undress all the time, unlike that fragger Lockdown.

Despite the interfacing, and despite him being the enemy, sort of, he couldn’t help but think serving under Ultra Magnus would have been nicer than being stuck on that stinky ship, with that lecherous skull-face, the blue mech thought briefly as fingers gently played with his helm fins.

“Your cabin boy is well-trained, Lockdown. I hope mine is pleasing you as well?” Ultra Magnus commented, optics glancing toward the chair where his fellow captain was lounging, a disrobed Rodimus in his laps.

The red and yellow young mech had his arms laced around the privateer’s neck, moaning as he was being fingered mercilessly. Even as he continued to pat Lockdown’s cabin boy, he kept a close eye on his own’s, registering how he acted and if he looked to be in any discomfort. Although swapping the services of their cabin boys was somewhat expected during those kind of meetings at sea, that didn’t mean Ultra Magnus would stand for outright abuse on Lockdown’s part. A cabin boy was here to serve his captain and his captain’s guests, but he too was allowed to feel safe and to be well-treated.

He had suspicion Lockdown’s training of his own might have been harsh -- the privateer wasn’t known as being kind -- but so far, he had been perfectly polite and amiable.

“Oh, he’s perfect,” Lockdown purred, crooking his fingers and making Rodimus cry sharply. “I can return the compliment. Your own is very well trained too.”

“It just take a strong hand and discipline,” Ultra Magnus rumbled. “There’s no need for more.”

“Oh, I quite agree,” the privateer answered with a straight face, and the Navy Officer couldn’t guess if he was kidding or not. Given the way he felt the blue cabin boy tense between his thighs, he guessed that whatever the true answer was, he wouldn’t enjoy hearing it…

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Want to see more? Never fear! Ficlets to this AU should be added soon as part of the Prompt Party I did recently. Stay tuned. ;)


End file.
